


primroses and posies

by typh00ns



Category: Original Work
Genre: Hanahaki Disease, Lesbian Character, Original Character(s), Trans Female Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-02-20
Packaged: 2019-11-01 08:56:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17864315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/typh00ns/pseuds/typh00ns
Summary: She coughed up flowers -- delicate blossoms. She was young and foolish and in love.And now her time was running out.





	primroses and posies

Josie Zhang was going to die.

She had known of this before, of course, but the mere idea of nothingness — of ceasing to exist — was still incomprehensible to her.

Her body was in agony; with every shuddering breath that she took, bright pain wracked her chest. Delicate blossoms ran up her throat, creeping their way forward, before settling at the base of her esophagus. Whenever she opened her mouth to speak, only flower petals fell out.

The flower roots had already expanded across her lungs, the doctors had explained benignly, giving her another one of those pitiful looks that she loathed so much.

Josie hated their condoling glances more than anything — hated that their voices softened when they spoke to her, hated that she was being regarded as a charity case.

What did it matter? She was already dead. What difference was their pity going to make?

It was easier to fade away than she’d thought it would be. Too easy. There were no sobbing parents, no get-well cards, no clusters of friends coming to pay their respects.

But she didn’t care. The roots expanding inside of her were nothing compared to the shriveling of her heart, and there was nothing she wanted less than to talk about it.

She’d only felt hollower and hollower since she’d arrived at the hospital, mulling over thoughts and distant memories in a feeble attempt to dull out her pain.

Even as she lay in her bed, the monotonous beeping of the machines around her forming a steady rhythm, she couldn’t help but wonder — as she’d already done so many times — what had brought her to this point.

Josie had known for years that when some unfortunate soul fell into one-sided love, flowers began to sprout in their lungs. But her? A year ago, if someone had told her that she was to fall victim to the disease, she would have laughed.

There was a cure — a surgery. A chance of continuing to live, if it could even be referred to as such. But as soon as the flowers were removed, the victim’s ability to love would forever disappear. What kind of life would they even be able to lead then? They’d simply be empty vessels. Half-humans.

Too late for that now.

A sudden fit of coughing lurched her out of her reverie, and a flurry of delicate yellow petals cascaded to the floor. She clutched desperately at the sides of her bed as her body shuddered, lungs burning. As it finally subsided, tears pricked at the sides of her eyes. 

Primroses were scattered about on nearly every surface, in every nook and cranny — gentle little bits of flora with soft, creamy petals. It had been almost a year since the first one appeared; a year of aching pain and lonely nights and half-buried recollections.

She missed the way she’d felt around her love, the sensation of a hot sunrise glowing within her that was soon replaced by cold silence and thorny brambles. She missed the chiming laughs, the quiet smiles, the jolt of emotion as their eyes met.

But she never had quite learned how to let go of her feelings, Josie thought bitterly. She was still a lovestruck fool after all this time, pining over someone who she couldn’t — no, _shouldn’t_ — be together with.

The door swung open, scattering rays of light across the tiled floor.

And a girl entered the room, brown hair unkempt and blue eyes glossy with tears. The corners of her lips tugged up to reveal the barest approximation of a smile.

Something clicked within her mind, a puzzle piece fitting into place at last as her mouth formed the name of the girl she had fallen in love with nearly a year ago. 

“Summer.”

“I thought I’d find you here,” the girl whispered shakily, and she suddenly keeled over as she hacked and coughed, as if she were trying to dislodge something from her throat.

A primrose tumbled into Summer’s trembling fingers. With a slow, deliberate motion, she lifted it and offered it to the other girl, the head of the golden blossom drooping in her lax grip. Gossamer-like petals flitted down and drifted through the air.

The thorns ever-so-slowly unwound from her lungs, releasing their hold on her body. Josie drew in a soft breath, hesitantly reaching for Summer’s hand.

And the edges of a petal began to wither and curl.

**Author's Note:**

> Hanahaki disease is a commonly known fictional disease. More information can be found [here.](https://fanlore.org/wiki/Hanahaki_Disease)


End file.
